


By The Taeglin

by Lunarium



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, Fix-It, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4318077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The compassionate river and the two women she saved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Taeglin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Solanaceae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solanaceae/gifts).



> Treat for Solanaceae! :)

What saved her life was also what first killed her. She had been standing still by the lake for the longest time, the raging battle nearby not bothering her as much as the heavy sun’s heat bearing down on her shoulders. Her wrists were tied by thick rope, as were the other hostages, but her eyes shifted over the surface of the river and towards me. 

A flicker of longing passed through pained eyes, and she licked her lips, her desire clear to me. Though too weak to raise the waves against her foes, I soothingly lured her closer to my river, offering what she needed most in that moment. She took a tentative glance over her shoulder, at the men who were warring with the gnarled fiends, then crouched to her knees and stretched her neck as far as her bonds would allow her. A dry pink tongue lapped at the cool sweet waters of my river, and her tiny sighs were filled with gratitude for quenching her thirst. Behind her, some of the other hostages watched with longing, and I was filled with a determination to help them as well. I blessed the river so that with each sip, her body grew in strength. 

But it came with a price. All too soon, before another hostage could take her turn, the fiends turned towards us, and bellowing in hard voices filled with rage, they grabbed the maiden by the hair and threatened to snap her neck as the other hostages were all slaughtered, my river sprayed with their blood. The maiden’s screams ripped through the grey skies, and she was whisked far from my comforting aura. She was then impaled into a nearby tree. 

Such evil my eyes had never beheld before. I kept my gaze at her, though I could not move too far from my river, but my blessed water still flowed inside her. The men who sought to free the hostages had gathered about her, and weakly she gasped, “Tell the Mormegil that Finduilas is here.” Her gaze slipped towards me, and the light behind her eyes dulled. 

But I knew she was not dead. 

By chance, they happened to bury her right beside my river, over land close enough I could reach through the soil, and formed a mound to mark her grave. As I still had time, for the magic would work for hours, I bid my time till the men departed. Then slipping long fingers into the bank and through the soil, I pulled her from under the mound and out through the bank. Blood pooled into my river, but stilled instantly from a single touch of my hand. From her wrist a pulse was felt so faint no man would have picked it out. 

I examined her face. Innocence still shone, marred by soot and the terror of the final moments of her life; her mouth was formed into a tiny pout, the pointy curve of her ear indicative of being one of the elves. Her hair was long and flowed with the water of my river. She fit well here. It was a pity there was nothing I could do for the other women. 

I scanned my hands above her body, identifying each point of injury and healing it with a song and more of my river’s blessing. Her breath soon came, her heart’s beat returning to normal. By the time I was done washing and healing her, she appeared as though she were simply asleep in my river, content and dreaming of sweet dreams free of all the horrors and ills of her life. 

Leaning close to her ear, I willed her to awake and drink more from my river.

*

For the next few weeks, Finduilas lived in a daze. She remembered being pinned to the tree, but what came after was not unlike sleep. She kept to the Taeglin and to myself, for fear of more danger, but also for my company. She did not venture far out of the river, and her travels were limited only to the length of the river.

I sought to make her as comfortable as possible. She was quiet for the first few days, trying to understand that she was given a new life. Her father and mother had been slain, as were her friends and all the life that she did know in Nargothrond. To heal her sorrow I remained by her side. It had taken her a while to grow used to my odd appearance, for the river and I were one. Finduilas herself was a kindly beauty, and I wished that, were I to have a daughter, she too would have long flowing hair like a golden river. 

The Mormegil returned to study her grave, the Haudh-en-Elleth as it was called, and grieved, but Finduilas dared not go near him. Whatever affection she had for him faded with the mists of mornings; the Finduilas before death and now were of two different kinds. 

What did draw her back to the mound was the woman. It was one entire year since the day I had saved Finduilas when sharp cries drew our attention back to the mound. A woman, one of the Manfolk, lay naked upon the grave, her shoulders shaking with her weeping. Finduilas studied her from the safety of the river, unseen, and only moved away when the voices of other men reached her ears. 

After that she had grown quiet again, a new cloud having cast over her, though for what reason I understood not, at least not for a while. The woman, also golden-haired but smaller in stature and rounder at the hips, remained in the lands as did the Mormegil. Finduilas kept herself hidden within my river or beside it, sheltered under the cool shades of the tall trees which lined the banks. The clouds parted above her, and she spoke sweetly of the woman with an apt fascination fit for young Manfolk. As silver bells over my waters were her songs of adoration for the woman, which I listened and wove into my waters, moved by her innocence, and neither of us were aware of the evil which bred in the lands not far from our home. 

And indeed, it would not be until a few years later we would learn that the curse which led to Finduilas’s misery and death would spread to the woman as well. It was the cry from the woman which met our ears one night, and Finduilas dove into my river, swimming at great speed to locate the source of the distressed cries, taking us to the deep narrow gorge of the Cabed-en-Aras. 

The woman was shouting something we could not hear, and she cast herself into the gorge. Finduilas’s screams rang out, but she was too far to break the woman’s fall. In fear I set off strong waves through my river to pushed Finduilas further along. From this distance still could I see the red in my waters, as the woman must have struck one of the large rocks. Though she had not drunk my water, saving her would still be easier if we got to her in time. 

I waited till Finduilas brought her to me, the cut on her head minor and easily healed. A few of her bones were another matter, but in time they too were blessed into full health. Finduilas held her in all this time, one hand rubbing her hair and singing softly to bring her calm. And seeing this, and feeling Finduilas’s affection for the woman, propelled me to heal as much of her as I could. 

Though Niënor, as we learned her name, had not walked on the brinks of death as closely as Finduilas had, she remained still and quiet even after she awoke, cradled warmly in the arms of the elf maiden. The unborn child was lost, as much as we tried to save it, but Niënor did not seem to give it mind. The sorrow and misery of her entire life occupied her mind and clouded her eyes from seeing much in the first few months she stayed with us. That healing will take the longest. 

When I had given her a cup full of the blessed water of my river, I asked what she desired, and taking the cup she answered she wished she could forget everything. 

Finduilas remained beside her as often as she could. Her company eventually encouraged the woman to eat, and to drink from my river which I kept blessing for her. Day by day she grew a little stronger and a little more outgoing, replying back to us when we spoke with her. To Finduilas also was her attention drawn. Perhaps out of embarrassment for being so cold towards us, and especially to Finduilas, before, she was shy at the first time they spoke, but as the seasons passed, as the flowers bloomed on the banks and ducks happily waddled by, she was a cheery maiden as much as Finduilas. The same tragedy had wrapped around them, but they had found that a common trait shared, upon which their happier future they could build.

*

Many years had passed since then. The scenery had changed at the banks, but the women both remained by the Taeglin, hidden from sight of the men and elves and orcs who ventured close. They were never apart, not as they were content to spend every moment together while Niënor still walked the earth.

Though deeply in love, they did not abandon me, taking me as the guardian for them both. And so they were at the bank, enjoying the summer sun, when I had given birth to my daughter and proudly showed her to them. 

“Golden hair,” they commented, grinning, “just as you always wished!”


End file.
